


No Rest For The Wicked

by PhantomWriter



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Merlin (TV), Supernatural, The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 15, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, Multiverse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pairings undecided
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 10:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20505668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: Chuck snapped his fingers and all his worlds, his favorites and even the abandoned ones, began to collapse.Jack, meanwhile, was awake at The Empty, and after a conversation with the new Death managed to gather allies across the multiverse out of Chuck's reach.Team Free Will didn't get to be picky who ended up entering their world.





	No Rest For The Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Eh. A self-indulgent fic I came up with. ;)

"We should talk."

Jack turned to the female voice and found a woman carrying a scythe. She seemed unperturbed at the black and oily creature that was with them, a slit that was supposed to be its mouth upturned into a smile.

The shot of terror that ran along Jack's spine came unbidden.

"Relax," the woman spoke again. "It is awake, but you can do something regarding that."

"I—" Jack struggled to utter words. "What?"

The woman merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "You have to stand up for this."

And Jack was then standing there as if he had done it unconsciously. He risked turning his back to the creature in favor of the woman, and the longer Jack stared at her, the more his mind sprang the thoughts that he knew he hadn't had before but were there before he even took an actual shape inside his mother's womb.

"Death," he breathed out. "You're Death."

"That I am." It earned Jack a quirk of the lips. She nodded past his shoulders. "And that is the being that exists here, in The Empty, and goes by the name The Shadow. It is not happy when it found out about you disturbing its sleep."

"I didn't mean to," Jack said weakly. "I called Castiel unconsciously then, but I didn't know it—The Shadow would wake."

"I know," she said, and Jack could be mistaken, but he thought he heard a tinge of sympathy in her tone. "But the fact remains that it is now awake when it shouldn't be." She paused in consideration to The Shadow who remained in place there, tilting its head in what appeared to be utter curiosity.

"Oh," Jack said lamely. Another consequence of his action, it seemed. And he was too young, too immature to comprehend earlier the repercussions of the actions of someone like him.

He swallowed. He had people who put their trust in him in the matter of his abilities, and he had done nothing but disappoint them greatly.

"The Empty is outside the jurisdiction of God; therefore, you are the only person who can put The Shadow back to its sleep." Death paused and stared at Jack. "You can use the situation to your advantage," she said with a voice that took a sudden turn to an impersonal note.

"What situation?"

"Below, where the stage is presently collapsing on the Winchesters and Castiel."

Jack was immediately alarmed at the mention of his guardians in danger. "What happened to them?"

Death smiled humorlessly. "God."

And then Jack learned of what came after his death, of the world-ending situation that he left his loved ones at. Jack believed in Dean, Sam, and Cas, but while Death was giving him the gist of the present state of Earth right at the very moment, he knew that their combined efforts wouldn't be enough to defeat all those that rose after God made their reality collapse.

"God has no hold over The Empty, and only here can you freely seek help without interference. There are walls between worlds, and very few of those worlds are not of God's creation, even lesser are the ones you can reach with your powers. Only from those you can search for the right people who can provide help."

Jack understood the implication of what Death was saying to him. There was danger yet again, and he wondered faintly where would he go after, if there was more beyond The Empty.

Perhaps that was it. Maybe he would cease to exists anywhere. Just gone as if he was never created.

It wasn't difficult for Jack to make a decision.

"Tell me what I have to do."

* * *

When Adam Young felt a sudden shift, he looked outside and was met with the same pleasant weather.

Huh. He must be mistaken.

He went back to his homework with all the determination and intent to finish so he could play Frisbee with Dog. Dog was outside, basking in the late afternoon sun. Adam could see him from the window and watched for a few minutes as Dog entertained himself by standing on both his hind legs.

When Dog plopped down hilariously, Adam felt it again.

Or heard, this time.

It was like an echo of sorts, like a distant call that wasn't made up of a voice. Vibrations, yes. It was like those until there came a comprehensible voice that seemingly rang from inside his head.

_I need…_

Adam frowned. There was an odd noise that wasn't unlike what the old TV in the basement often made.

… _help. I need… help._

It sounded like a boy. Not as young as him but a little older and younger than his father.

_Help me. If you can hear me, I need your help. They need your help._

Dog began barking outside in a hurried manner, jumping on the spot with his tail wagging when Adam went out to check on him. He went running out past the bushes for Adam to follow, and with a thrum of excitement and curiosity, Adam ran and followed him. Dog led him to Eden, the Them's spot, and by the seat that Adam often occupied was a vertical line of sorts that glowed orange.

Adam approached it with wonder. It flickered once he came closer. He wanted very much to touch it, though he stopped and began to think.

Whatever this was, it wasn't from him, of that he was sure. It made him all the more intrigued, his hand almost itching to reach for it as any other kid would feel. But he wasn't any other kid, and he had already proven it to his friends, Anathema, Newt, Mr. Aziraphale, and Mr. Crowley. Presently, he was in the process of proving himself mature to his parents so that they would no longer ground him as punishment. Only kids get grounded as punishment, in his opinion.

But what would an adult think of this peculiar situation?

Dog barked, and Adam got an idea.

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

He called the first adult he knew who could help him.

Adam explained the situation to Anathema and Newt who listened to him attentively. It was nice that Newt was now living with Anathema; he could make a delicious hot choco. Adam didn't have to convince them much to follow him to the location where the glowing line was.

He wanted to tell to his friends what he saw, though he reluctantly followed Anathema's advice that they keep it among themselves for now until it proved to be harmless. Judging from her skeptical look when she said that, she didn't look like she believed that.

Anathema brought her occult devices while Newt watched the line, enraptured. Her tools were not responding to any of the tests she was conducting, and Adam had to watch the process, trying to stifle his boredom when nothing interesting was happening.

Anathema pulled away her glasses, clearly frustrated and decided: "We might need to call them."

When they trekked back to the cottage, Adam was already thinking of excuses he would have to make to keep the rest of the Them away for a day from their spot. He would wait with Anathema and Newt for Mr. Aziraphale and Mr. Crowley to arrive, which, upon their return to the cottage, turned out to be unnecessary when a cool black car was already parked in front.

Mr. Aziraphale was beaming at them, waving, while Mr. Crowley leaned against his car, arms crossed.

"We were just about to give you a ring," Anathema said once the pleasantries were out of the way.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. I know this is all sudden, but we heard something, ah, distressing earlier today." Mr. Aziraphale glanced at Adam worriedly. "Are you alright, Adam?"

Adam frowned at him. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Angel here thinks you sent us a distress signal," Mr. Crowley interrupted. "I told him it didn't sound like you. He said he had to make sure. In person."

"But I am fine." He didn't even know he could send a distress signal to his godfathers (at least, that was who they said they were). Cool. "I never sent—Oh. Oh! You heard it too?"

Mr. Azirpahale blinked. "Someone asking for help that wasn't you?"

Adam nodded eagerly. He didn't imagine it then. "He said that he needs help. That I help him if I can. Them."

"Did it sound like a male teenager?"

Another nod. "He said 'them', but I only heard his voice." Mr. Aziraphale and Mr. Crowley exchanged a meaningful look. "Then there's the glowing line that appeared."

Anathema and Newt suggested that they remained in the cottage to research on the matter while Adam led his godfathers back to the spot. Mr. Aziraphale looked rather alarmed while Adam was describing the thing to the best of his abilities. Mr. Crowley was laidback, though he was obviously listening to Adam just as well.

"There."

Mr. Crowley muttered what sounded like a bad word. Mr. Aziraphale gasped, his eyes widened.

"I've read a lot regarding this, but I never thought…" Mr. Aziraphale trailed off, mumbling several _oh dear _under his breath.

Mr. Crowley circled the line, the orange light reflected in his dark sunglasses. "Yep, doesn't look or sound like good news to me."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked.

"Kid, the fact that someone from the other side of this is strong enough to tear a literal line in space to ask for help is suspicious already."

"But what if they really do need help?" Mr. Aziraphale said at the same time Adam asked: "A tear in space?"

"Other dimension, kid. All that shebang," Mr. Crowley answered him first. "And, no, angel, someone in danger or not, you don't want to get involve in another dimension's affairs."

"But they must have known the risk of this call!" Mr. Aziraphale looked indignant. "They could be in dire need, ergo they're desperate for any kind of help they could get."

"Then it's not on us," Mr. Crowley insisted firmly. "Besides, doesn't it sound fishy to you that it's only the three of us, two who are not human and one who's only half, who heard it?"

A certain look flashed at Mr. Aziraphale's face. "Oh, dear. I understand your concern, but I hardly think this one is from any of our sides. If it is a trap of some sort, then it's way early to pull another. Not to mention all the effort alone to pull… this." He looked fascinated when he gestured at the glowing line.

"What should we do?" Adam asked.

"Well, what do you want to do, Adam?" Mr. Aziraphale asked carefully. "He did reach out to you after all."

"So did to you," Adam argued. "I'm going if you're going. If you're not, then I'll go alone." Dog whimpered at his claim. "With Dog."

Mr. Aziraphale appeared hesitant. He wasn't against helping, it seemed, though when it came to the matter of Adam's safety he was concerned.

_Help us_, the same voice came through again, louder than before. Dog began barking incessantly. Adam met Mr. Aziraphale's gaze sharply. _Whoever's listening, I need your help. My world needs your help._

Mr. Crowley chewed his lip, and he too was conflicted at the latest message. Adam watched them helplessly, eyes darting to this portal—that should have been a circle, in his opinion—and his initial excitement at the knowledge of other worlds existing out there was immediately washed away by worry after hearing a what sounded like an Another-World-Apocalypse.

Following Dog who rushed ahead, Adam pretended not to hear his godfathers' alarmed calls when he jumped through.

* * *

The magic that began thrumming tenfold under the grounds of Avalon in the past weeks abruptly stopped.

Merlin, who has been camping in the area since the odd incident started, fearing that it was all connected with Arthur, found the sudden pause ominous. Yes, the magic has been fluctuating inside and outside Avalon since the last century, and what used to be occasional waning periods became more and more frequent after industrialization. Still, it wasn't normal for Avalon's flow of magic to completely shut down out of the blue.

Then, amidst the pause, he heard it.

A tug, at first, that slowly formed into what resembled an indiscernible voice that was seeking connection. Merlin allowed it and put out a mild stream of his magic to reach.

What took hold was also magic, and it was unfamiliar, neutral in a sense that it wasn't dark magic nor what Merlin himself was possessing.

It wasn't of this world.

Merlin was startled at the realization, and, consciously, he sent forth more of his magic until it made a solid link.

_Help, _a young male voice said. _My world needs your help._

_Your world? _Merlin queried.

The boy—a teen, probably—seemed surprised to hear feedback. _You can hear me?_

_As clear as a day, young man. Where are you?_

_I cannot say because I don't know for sure. This is all new to me, and I have no idea if in what number of worlds is my world._

"Oh." Merlin blinked. Ah, yes, the young man did mention 'his' world needed help.

_Not that I am unwilling to lend you my aid, but how do you propose is it to be done?_

_Thank you_, said the young man breathlessly, already grateful. _You're the first who responded to me, sir. As for your question, there should be a portal that appeared nearby you._

Merlin surveyed his surroundings and was about to reply regarding the absence of said portal when the magical energy of Avalon spiked strongly, rumbling through the land. The flow returned once more as if it hadn't stopped.

A few meters from Merlin, a patch of space warped until a thin line cut through it vertically in about as tall as him.

_I see now what you speak of. _Merlin didn't move toward it yet. _This is a gate to your world, I presume._

_Yes. That should be it._

_Will it take long? _Merlin asked. He wondered if he shouldn't be hasty in this. He had heard of other worlds, of course, and if he has his old mindset when his abilities used to fascinate him to no end, he would have attempted it as an adventure. It was tremendously dangerous to trust a voice that managed to pierce through Avalon's shield of magic that Merlin had strengthened further.

But he could hear it too, the desperation and the powerlessness denoted by the young man's tone were hard to mimic if ever there was malice behind his words.

_I'm sorry, but I don't know. _There came a sigh._ I have to warn you first of the dangers in my side. That is, if you are still willing to go, sir._

_I am, _Merlin assured him. _I only ask so I can put a safeguard in the place I am guarding._

_Oh. Thank you, sir. Thank you very much._

Merlin inclined his head amusedly. What a polite lad. _If we're going to work together, call me Emrys._

_My name is Jack. Jack Kline. _It was a human then, Merlin noted; or at least somebody with a human name.

_Will I find you immediately after I cross the gate, Jack?_

_I—I don't know, Emrys. I'm away from those who direly needed your help, but I will come down to them as soon as I can. And then we'll meet. Of that, you can be sure._

Merlin got the impression that Jack was trapped somewhere in his world. He would analyze later what Jack meant by coming down to his companions.

_It's a promise, Jack._

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

Merlin surprised himself by how easy he jumped at the prospect of traveling to another world, with very minimal preparation and without knowledge of what was waiting from the other side.

It was the centuries of existence, he mused, that allowed him to travel to almost every part of the planet of this world. And at the chance of exploring a whole new world, well, why not?

As a precaution, Merlin fortified Avalon even further, particularly Arthur's grave, in case of something else slipping into this world.

He might be away for a while, but this world remained under his protection. His magic would make sure of it.

"I'll see you later, Arthur," Merlin bid his goodbye once he was ready.

There was also the chance that he might not come back, but he would be. In his utmost capability.

* * *

Since Strange started a joint afternoon meditation with Wanda, it never once included a voice trying to establish a communication with them.

It was a twitch at first that they both felt and promptly dismissed in a similar fashion before going on with the meditation. Strange remembered being a reluctant mentor to Wanda in a distant time, more out of his uncertainty of what he could offer to a sorceress who has had her power way ahead of him and has been practicing a different brand of sorcery. Now, however, was a steady mentor-student relationship where Strange could actually find his footing in seniority. He was no longer sure whose habits were rubbing off on who, he found recently.

The dismissed twitch became an electric response, and for a moment, they both thought it came from either of them.

"It's not me," Strange confirmed.

"Nor mine," Wanda said confusedly. Wanda, who was more attuned to the fundamental parts of sorcery, did what was comparable to a sniff. "It's not of this world. I think."

Strange's back straightened. He would have recognized it if it was of Earth's or Asgard's. "Do you mean not of this dimension?"

Wanda hesitated before she answered with a nod.

Briefly, he entertained the notion that it could be Dormamu attempting to return, but Strange knew it couldn't, not after their agreement. And the first significant implicit rule that Strange learned was that cosmic entities took agreements seriously.

Strange extended a hand that Wanda took, and he led them both to a separate plane where the spark of sorcery, or whatever it was, was stronger, clearer in its shape and intent.

It was the voice of a male human, young and grave as he asked for assistance.

_My world needs your help. To whoever is listening, I need your help._

Strange carefully returned them to the present.

"Why did we leave immediately?" Wanda asked. "Someone's asking for our help."

"Someone not from here," Strange reminded her firmly.

"He's human, though not of this world."

He stood and paced in thought. "It _sounds_ human, and it can be something else entirely for its voice to be heard this far."

"Or he's a sorcerer like us."

"He could be." Strange acknowledged her point. "We don't know anything about him, so we can't risk it."

"Then let's listen to him, or talk to him if we're able," Wanda insisted. "We already heard him. Why not listen to what he has to say and make a decision then?"

Albeit hesitant, Strange was unable to refuse the determined expression that Wanda has. "Alright."

The voice was still there when they returned, speaking the same words over and over as if a broken record, pleading for anyone to help save his world. Strange caught bits of a collapsing reality, and the longer he lingered to listen to the sound of turmoil, the more he was reminded of what encompassed his duties as the Sorcerer Supreme. It was a title that he would bear for as long as he could, and it wasn't simply a decoration for his name.

A dismal incident that they now dubbed as The Snap could make even Strange forget that there were other worlds out there that were existing and possibly hopeless in the face of cosmic dangers threatening them. And their only hope, perhaps, was an outside interference.

Upon their return to where a unique form of a dimensional portal was waiting for them, Wanda was already dead set on crossing over, with or without Strange.

"I'll go. Alone if I must. I won't hold it over you because I understand that you're more needed here," she said. "Just keep the portal open for me until I return, will you?"

To think that a mentor was willing to send his only student away without guidance.

"I'll come with you," he said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

He left a note for Wong to be found later that he hoped would be enough to explain the rather random situation.

Strange has a feeling that it wouldn't be a short trip.

* * *

Five had a clear destination in mind the moment he jumped him and his siblings.

A cutout plan was completely unrelated to the manner of the jump itself which was, frankly, a rough and tumble along the smooth stream of time.

He knew he was bound to get several complaints that there was nothing smooth in it at all.

At present, he couldn't afford to be distracted, especially with five special cargoes with him. Six, perhaps, if you count an incorporeal Ben.

However, Five would like to point out that immense concentration was difficult to maintain in, say, the middle of flowing down in time and when a rather sudden, and rude, pull of something else came interrupting in between the chute that was Five's transportation to any points in time and space.

Then he spotted it, the crack, and then what used to be a linear pull became a detour away from the steady downward motion.

Five panicked when the seven of them were yanked away to another direction, one which he wasn't aware possible because it was his abilities they were using _goddammit_.

"Where are we?" someone said with a pained groan among the ungraceful heap they made.

"I don't know what happened, but we took a sudden detour that I couldn't control," Five said through gritted teeth the moment they landed.

"Fantastic," came the same voice sarcastically.

It was Klaus, still an adult, by the looks of it, and so were the rest sans Five, as usual. Five distinctly recalled that they all bodily turned into their thirteen-year-old selves right before their leap. Great.

"Not 2002, I bet," said Diego with a wince when he stood and looked around. "Where—" He went rigid at what he saw. "Are those—Holy shit."

"I think we're far from home," Ben said with furrowed eyebrows.

And they heard and saw him, not as a ghost, but as a live human with them. It was a lot to unpack, and terribly wrong-timing since they were, apparently, spat out in some unknown universe dab smack on what appeared to be a crisis where there was a complete absence of the sun and the land swarmed with the undead.

"Why the fuck are we in a zombie apocalypse?"

Nobody was unable to answer Diego once the undead took notice of the new arrivals and began to surround them.

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

They landed in a cemetery.

Upon realization, Klaus muttered: "Fantastic." Except he sounded strained the second time and at a closer look, trembling. Diego pulled him to his side closer, knowing full well that Klaus was seeing something else aside from the undead. Klaus's attention snapped upwards, looking at something they couldn't.

Luther passed Vanya to Ben, his large arms pushing Allison and Ben behind him. They absently formed into a circle, with Luther, Diego, and Five crowding the others in the middle as the undead advanced. One of the zombies made a run for it and was thrown aside, headless, by Diego.

The rest of the undead that had been dragging their feet towards them began to break into a sprint at their poor group defense and came in a disgusting wave of decayed flesh.

They ran, which in their case was more like dodging open graves and avoiding the slow-moving zombies.

"Klaus," Ben called once Luther retrieved Vanya from him while running. Ben remained heaving. "Can you do something with them?"

"Not sure," Klaus yelled back, narrowly avoiding three undead from colliding with him. He staggered into a stance and screamed at the undead an order to stop. A few of the undead did and stared at Klaus confusedly before they became agitated and gunned for him. "Doesn't work!"

Five tripped a couple and, with a borrowed knife from Diego, beheaded the two who were closing in behind Allison. He took notice that the undead weren't particularly quick nor intelligent, though they could be triggered to swiftness by the rest of their hoard. Five made a jump (a reserved one after he was sure that he was on his limit) a couple of meters ahead and surveyed the surroundings where there was a thinner wave of undead in between another set that appeared to be milling to the center where Five could hear struggling.

He squinted his eyes and noticed three living men fighting back against the undead and were being pushed back at the huge number of their opponents.

Five looked back at his siblings, a fresh wave hot on their heels, and he realized that once his siblings reached his position, the three men standing were doomed.

"Wait!"

Luther, the first to hear him, was instructed by Five to set Vanya down for a minute beside him and to pick up the two discarded tombstones and make a throw. There was no precise target, though some of the zombies behind Klaus were fatally hit on the head after Klaus ducked.

"Allison, stay close to me and Vanya." Five handed her a discarded rusty iron that he saw one of the three men holding. "Here, use this."

"Luther, Klaus, Diego, run past me and towards there." He gestured at the area where he saw the three men. "Luther, Diego, thin out the crowd from the back. Klaus, distract them nearby Ben once their attention is on us."

"Stand still there," Five instructed Ben, pointing at a spot that was near them but out of the way. "At my signal, let your creature free."

Against all odds, it actually worked.

There were unintelligent noises of confusion and a revolting sound from the rotting bodies torn in half by Ben's creatures. Five watched as the undead thinned out around him and his siblings, as well as from the three men he spotted earlier.

When a straight clear path was made between Five and the three men, he saw them noticing him and his siblings with a mixed bag of confusion, surprise, alarm, and awe.

One of them met Five's eyes, and Five found himself the receiving end of a scrutinizing look.

All of a sudden, the ground quaked.

Five completely missed the peculiar cracks that ran on the ground until it glowed fiery, unearthly and sinister. Hellish.

"Look out!" Luther yelled to everyone, particularly to the three men who were standing on one of the fissures.

They all struggled to scramble away as the surface shook to crumble underneath them. Five reached for the nearest sibling to him, Allison, and held her arm to prepare for a leap despite pushing the limit of his jumps this far, not to mention the exhaustion that began seeping to his bones past the adrenaline.

Five cursed and refused to accept that they would meet their end in this fashion and in a world where they didn't belong.

* * *

"Dean!" Sam yelled when he saw Dean wobbling backward to a fissure, and shit, Sam was close to losing his balance the more intense the earthquake got.

Cas's hands darted out to pull at them, steading their feet. His angelic strength kept them standing steady on their feet.

Sam looked ahead, his vision blurry as he searched for the people who helped them earlier. He swore one of them was a kid, a giant, and a man with tentacles. He would have reached over for them to huddle in a tight-knit formation with him, Dean, and Cas, but with the earthquake that seemed to be hell-bent on finishing them, maneuvering was difficult.

Sam felt bad that they didn't even get to know the people who helped them.

"**STOP!**"

All too quickly, the quaking stopped, and Sam was left feeling whiplashed at the abrupt motion.

Sam shook his head, adjusting to the return of stillness. To his side was Cas who blinked away the dizziness, and Dean who appeared to be on the verge of puking. Sam couldn't blame him; his stomach was threatening to throw up just as well.

"Careful, Sam, Dean," Cas voice came in warning, though his attention was taken by something else. "The ground remains open."

It was exactly as Cas said, the fiery glow of the topmost layer of Hell where there was magma and the spitting fire was visible. Shit, Sam really didn't need to peek down the crevice when he was already feeling sick. He rested his hands on his knees, breathing hard through his nose.

From the same crack, charred hands with sharp, blackened nails began creeping out. Sam knew he had seen them before, back when Asmodeus manipulated Jack to open a section of Hell.

Sam heard Dean cursing when he saw it too. Distantly, Sam wondered if it was the next level Chuck prepared for them after clearing the zombies. If this was the Level 2, Sam wasn't looking forward to the rest.

"**GO BACK!**"

Sam felt it, the compelling strength behind the words uttered in a roaring voice that almost sounded inhuman. It was then followed by the piercing, distorted wails of Shedim that crawled back down until the last spark of hellfire vanished underneath the closing ground.

With a shaky breath, Sam blinked once… twice, to believe that earth remained intact after all that.

"What the hell just happened?" Dean exclaimed, turning wildly and was met with the same befuddled looks of the strangers who aided them.

Light footsteps hastened to them, and to Sam's and Cas's shock, it was a boy with a curly hair who came bounding with a dog, staring at Sam, Dean, and Cas, and was followed by two more adults calling the boy 'Adam'.

"Cor! That was a lot of demons in your world," the boy observed. At Sam, Dean, and Cas, he waved. "Hello, sirs."

Sam had only two concerns he wanted to voice out: the boy was British, and _Jesus Christ_, what were kids doing out in a not-so-fine sunless day and the reality set to fall apart around them?

Did he also mention the zombies? Because that was the least outrageous on top of everything else.

"Sam, Dean," Cas said with sudden alertness, his eyes stuck on the boy. "He's a Nephilim." His eyes darted past the kid to the two other adults after the boy. One of them was a portly man with white hair and at a glance looked like an English professor, while the other was a ginger lanky man in all black and wearing sunglasses. Not the weirdest combination, as far as Sam had seen.

Sam barely registered Cas pointing to the two that they were an angel and a demon.

"Oh, Adam, honestly," admonished the man—er, angel, it seemed. "Don't go off running like that, young man. Are you alright?"

"He's obviously okay, angel," grunted the other, the demon. "You saw him kicking down those," he gestured vaguely with his hands, "whatever those abominations are."

Pot calling the kettle black, Sam was tempted to say. Dean had beaten him to it by raising a gun in front of the demon's face. "Who are you?"

The demon lazily turned its attention to Dean, an eyebrow raising behind his dark glasses, unimpressed. "Name's Crowley." He swept over Cas and Sam's profile. "Americans, huh. Figures."

"Hold up, you're saying your name is Crowley?"

"Yup."

"Now I'm pretty sure that's bullshit."

"Excuse me? It's not shite because I picked that myself. Thank you very much."

"Crowley," the angel began in warning. He warily considered Sam and his companions and apologetically said, "There has been a misunderstanding here, I think. And if I'm to make an educated guess, you know a Crowley, do you not?"

"_A_ Crowley?" Dean deadpanned. "Yeah, because there are plenty of Crowleys running around."

"Oh, I hope not in this world. One is already a handful," the angel replied lightly.

The demon and Sam simultaneously reacted a massive "What?"

"They're not from this universe," Cas supplied, tilting his head in wonder. "The three of you came together. The Nephilim brought you here."

"This _boy_ is Adam Young," the angel said primly at Cas. "We might not have originated from the same Host, but I expected better manners from a fellow angel."

Cas actually looked terribly chastised. "I did not mean to offend." He nodded shyly—at least, what passed as embarrassment when it came to Cas—at the boy. "Adam, I am Castiel, and these are Dean and Sam Winchester."

"Aziraphale," the angel introduced. "Again, this is Crowley. Anthony J. Crowley is the name he wants to go with these days."

And of all the things to do when the world was ending, Aziraphale beamed and shook each of their hands, and Sam had to admit that the optimism was contagious.

"I don't suppose Brady Bunch is with you." Crowley jerked his thumb to the other unknown people that they were yet to talk to.

They separated themselves once the new trio arrived, and at a distance, Sam could see that they were talking among themselves, with a woman unconscious. Sam wanted to ask what was wrong, but like Adam, Aziraphale, and Crowley, they seemingly came out of nowhere. He turned to Cas wordlessly, just to make sure.

"They're humans," Cas confirmed, though Sam could sense a 'but' there that he didn't voice. "One of them must be injured."

They approached tentatively, where the kid in what appeared to be a school uniform met them halfway, nodding grimly and nudging at his companions.

"Are you all alright, young man?" Aziraphale asked the boy, alarmed at the mention of injury. "The lady, was she bitten?"

The boy shook his head. "She has been unconscious since we came here."

"Do you mind?" Aziraphale asked him, and then the others.

They exchanged glances, and finally, at the boy's ascent with a reluctant nod, Aziraphale crouched down with soft white light on his palms and hovered at the unconscious woman.

"What's going on?" the boy demanded while Aziraphale examined the woman. "More importantly, what's the date?"

Sam answered him carefully. The boy's cursing was unexpected. "This might sound weird and forgive me if I'm wrong, but do you happen to be from another world as well?"

"Another world?" The boy scoffed, and Sam was partly embarrassed at how outrageous the question sounded. The boy, however, sighed after a thoughtful second. "That explains a lot of things," he muttered.

"Well, that's awfully friendly of you, brother," said a man who stood and stretched. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder that was promptly batted away. "Confusing situation aside, we're the Hargreeves. The name is Klaus." Klaus then pointed at the boy and said, "This lovely young man here is Five."

Klaus began pointing at each of his siblings, first at the man with Asian features and Sam remembered having honest-to-goodness tentacles out of him, Ben; there was also a man in all black leather and in a crew cut, Diego; a large dude with bulging arms whose name was Luther; there was another woman with them named Allison, and the passed out woman was called Vanya.

"I don't understand." Aziraphale was unsettled once he was done. "She is unharmed externally and otherwise. Perhaps with more time—"

"Sorry to cut it short," Dean interrupted. "But as you all saw a while ago, it's bad to stay here any longer. We have to regroup somewhere safe where we can all sit down and have the question and answer portion. Because _all _of us need to hear each other out."

For a person who was the shoot-now-and-ask-questions-later type during dire situations, Dean was actually willing to listen first. Sam nodded in agreement. "We have a bunker, a headquarters where we can all rest and make plans. Be better for Vanya to lie down too."

"We won't all fit in at your car, Dean," Cas reminded.

"Thanks for pointing the obvious, Cas," Dean bit back. "We have an angel, a demon, a Nephilim."

"Not a fan of teleportation, frankly," Crowley said offhandedly. Dean scowled. "Also, you might want to consider that we have no knowledge of your world's geography."

Sam wondered if that was truly the case if Crowley could identify them as Americans earlier.

"I'm afraid he's right," Aziraphale said. "And Adam here is yet to learn that."

"You'll have to teach me that when we came back," Adam told Aziraphale, not even bummed and was in fact excited. "If we can't fit in one, we can use two more cars, I reckon," he suggested. "Mr. Crowley already has one. The four of us can ride there." The dog barked in agreement.

"You brought a car through a portal?" Dean asked incredulously.

"No need, seems like." Crowley grinned. His attention went beyond them and to the sleek '26 Bentley parked not far. "Well, here's our ride," the demon said as Klaus whistled appreciatively.

"No way that's yours," Dean disputed petulantly.

"Yes way it's mine."

Sam rolled his eyes when Dean was about to retort. "Okay, guys, save it for later. We still need a car we can hotwire and large enough to fit seven people."

"What's a hotwire?" Adam asked, forehead scrunched up.

"An ambulance could have fitted us and Luther's arms," Klaus suggested offhandedly. When everyone turned at him, he shrugged. "What? You know where we can hijack one?"

"We already have one," Adam announced brightly, pointing beside the Bentley. "It's over there."

Sam barely knew the kid, but he was so proud of him already. "Great. We're all set then."

⛧⛧⛧⛧⛧

Dean turned on the engine. He watched through the rear-view mirror how the two other vehicles did the same from behind. He drove on as the other two followed at moderate speed.

As if on cue, the three of them inside the impala simultaneously said:

"Alternate worlds. Plural."

"A Nephilim from another dimension."

"'26 Bentley owned by a Crowley. Yeah, right."

Sam snapped his attention to Dean, pulling a face. "Really. The Bentley is your main concern."

"It's not like we haven't heard of alternate worlds and a Nephilim," Dean replied. To be honest, he wasn't certain where his calmness was coming from. God was about to end them, for goodness sake.

And Jack… God killed Jack. They didn't even have a body to bury because Chuck had to disintegrate the kid's body too. Dean swallowed and promptly fell quiet as the conversation flowed between Sam and Cas. Dean recognized the small spark of hope in Sam's tone.

"Two alternate worlds opening at the same time. Think it's because of Chuck's snap?" Sam asked.

"To my understanding, that snap wasn't only meant for this world alone," Cas said grimly. "It applies to all the other worlds Chuck created and abandoned."

"Then why are they here if their own world is falling apart?"

Cas slumped heavily at the backseat before he answered. "The number of universes is infinite," he said. "Chuck doesn't make every single one of them. Most, maybe, but not all. They could be from those, though I don't understand how they could have known that we need help."

"We'll get our answers later," Sam promised, pulling out his phone from his pocket. Dean's own phone was already lost when he couldn't feel it in his pockets. "We ought to check on Bobby, Jody, and the oth—oh."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

Sam hastily answered his phone on speakers and placed it on the dashboard. There was a boom of explosion that came from the other line.

"_He answers!" _came Rowena's seething voice. _"Why do I have a feeling that what's happening is your—_Manete! _Bullocks!"_

"Rowena? Are you al—"

"_That's a bloody useless question, Samuel. Nobody is fine with all these undead!"_

Dean rolled his eyes amidst his relief. "Sam's asking if you're injured." He spared Sam a glance. "Because he is, and pretending we all forgot about it."

Sam looked at him as if he wanted to smack Dean for telling on him. "I'm not pretending that I'm unharmed," Sam immediately said, leaning on the dashboard. At the sudden quick movement, he winced, hand clasping on his shoulder like he only felt the pain right then. "Adrenaline and all that." His expression tightened.

Dean raised an eyebrow. Interesting.

They weren't sure if what Rowena murmured was a spell or a Gaelic curse. She sighed. _"I'll take a look at that later if your angel can't,"_ she said, soft by her standards.

Alright. Weird, but more interesting.

"_I'm on my way to your mancave, and I'll have you know I'll be bringing someone with me."_

"Who?"

"_It's—To be honest, I only met him earlier. He… I believe he's not from around here."_

"You mean from another world?" Cas asked.

"_Possibly. The man is just there and helping me. No time to exchange pleasantries." _There was a cracking thunder from her end. She breathed harshly on the phone. _"I'm telling you now that he's bloody useful to be on our side."_

There was more of them, and Dean wasn't quite sure whether to consider this a good news or to worry seeing there were plenty of those otherworlders pouring into this world. "Fine. Bring him."

How could the situation get even worse anyway? Might as well gather every ally they could.

"_Well, I thought you'll be warier letting unknown people in your territory," _Rowena said wryly. _"We'll clear the road and we'll be on our way."_

She disconnected the call while the occupants of the Impala were left with little time to process until a call from Jody came in. She was running, by the sound of it, and was unaware that her call was answered.

"Jody? Where are you?" Dean asked, bumping up the speed.

A shotgun clocked on the other end. _"Boys? Wait, lemme just clear this—" _Multiple gunshots rang, and Jody made a small noise of victory. _"Alright. In a safe place now. What's going on, Dean? An hour ago, it was daytime, then it's evening all of a sudden. And don't get me started on the zombies."_

"Jody, I know you're all obviously occupied there so I'm gonna keep this short: ask everyone in there to retreat to the bunker as soon as possible. It's the safest place we all should be. We're already on our way. We'll explain what's happening there."

Jody sighed but didn't protest. _"Right. I'll pass that along. Bobby and his group arrived a while ago. Some scratch on a few of the hunters around, but they'll be fine. Lucky we've seen enough zombie movies to know we should avoid getting bitten. We saw what happened to those who were unfortunate."_

"There's too many of them. As soon as you can make way for cars, drive away," Sam advised.

"Is Claire there with you?" Cas asked.

"_Yep. She's staying by Alex's side while Alex gives first aid to a few injured hunters, and that's after Claire hotwired enough cars to fit us all in. All that's left is a clear way and we're good to go, probably in a few minutes. The two newcomers are effective in dealing mass damage. No need to worry about reloading either when using magic."_

Dean's shoulders slumped down in relief. More people in the close circle were fine despite everything. "Good. That's—Wait."

"What do you mean magic, Jody?" Sam asked curiously. "You mean like witches?"

"_Too long to explain, Sam, but probably not the kind of witches we've encountered. I'm talking about_ magic, _with bright lights and all. One of them even wears cape. Bobby's the one who found them."_

Sam and Cas exchanged looks, mind running at the thought of another one because what else could those two be other than a pair of dimension hoppers like the Hargreeves and the Nephilim + Demon + Angel Trio?

"Bring them along, Jody," Dean told her. "We need to talk about those people too."

"_You mean there's more of them?" _Judging by Jody's voice, she caught the slight wariness in Dean's tone. _"I know they're helping us in this, but should we be worried about them too?"_

"Not saying anything but keep an eye out. We don't know where they came from exactly." Not all otherworlders could be like Alternate Bobby and the rest.

"_Right. We'll talk about this later. Gotta go. We'll see you."_

The road was ominously clear, and Dean pressed on the gas, pretending that nothing went wrong. They were on their way home, and all was fine.

For now.

* * *

**TBC**


End file.
